Is this what life is?
No matter how hard you struggle, whenever you feel a bit better, you always find new misfortunes waiting—no, that’s Chief Yuan’s life.
To be honest, most people aren’t that unlucky.
The Red Moon above has always been a ticking time bomb, and how could Fu Qian not know this?
This is a reflection on "who am I, who is me," and it even involves the protagonist.
A few casual conversations for therapy, solving things without disturbing the original—that notion is a bit too idealistic.
For Fu Qian, once the pressure is applied, it’s only a matter of time before the original reacts.
Of course, whether sooner or later, the situation looks quite dire from Chief Yuan’s perspective.
Much like not being able to stop the Red Moon from descending the stairs, Fu Qian cannot stop the two from locking eyes.
Instantly captivated, Yuan Shan’s gaze followed the Red Moon all the way down.
The latter looked down, staring at a face identical to her own, as if gazing into a peculiar mirror.
Of course, even when really looking in a mirror, sometimes the reflection feels unfamiliar.
Currently, below the neck aside, the difference in demeanor between the two is visibly evident.
Yuan Shan’s expression is naturally different from usual, but there’s still a gap pared to the Red Moon’s distinct inhuman quality.
Yet, the boundary between deity and humanity isn’t entirely insurmountable.
Before even reaching face to face, as the distance between the two gradually closes, Fu Qian clearly senses a transformation.
pensating the excessive, remedying the deficient—the differences between their two faces surprisingly smooth over bit by bit, achieving a true mirror effect rapidly.
"Strange, but I seem to have forgotten..."
Even their train of thought seamlessly aligns, and as the Red Moon descends the final step of the First Phase, she frowns slightly, troubled by a memory that eludes her in her mind.
...
It’s quite perilous indeed.
Yuan Shan is aware of Old Master Henry, while the Red Moon is not so aware; this forms the core principle of that little operation from before.
And now, it seems effective at first glance—the Red Moon indeed lacks the concept of that particular tuxedo cat, interpreting it as "forgotten."
But as everyone knows, the premise of forgetting is having once remembered, and the subtext of the Red Moon’s words essentially implies that she knows Henry.
Why would she know? Because Yuan Shan knows.
This isn’t just manually piecing together a Yuan Shan; it’s like reverse assimilating the original, wholly integrating Yuan Shan into the self.
"I seem to have forgotten too... How could that be? Black and white, I’m quite certain..."
And indeed in the next moment, Yuan Shan continues to affirm this point.
When the Red Moon approached, gazing from across a corner of the counter, Yuan Shan’s face bore the same confusion, mumbling to herself.
The word "also" indicates that, at first glance, she could differentiate herself from the Red Moon, which seems like a piece of good news.
But delving into the specifics, forgetting even Old Master Henry bees quite deflating—like the struggle before drowning.
Not to mention, it’s hard to believe Yuan Shan’s original consciousness could remain so lucid under such face-to-face circumstances.
Hence, Fu Qian leans towards the notion that it’s still the Red Moon speaking, just as before.
Echoing the mirror analogy, as they lock eyes, the Red Moon forcibly perceives both faces as her own, rapidly aligning their aura.
In summary, it’s hand-to-hand bat with no room for retreat.
And in parison, Chief Yuan is pathetically weak.
"Take your time and think, don’t rush."
At such a critical moment, Fu Qian finally decides not to sit idly by.
While speaking to enlighten, he takes another prepared teacup, pours golden tea into it, and places it at the corner of the counter.
Seeing that it’s almost three o’clock, no matter how big the issue, tea first.
...
Snap!
Even in placing the teacup, the synchronization rate nearly reaches one hundred percent.
The Red Moon is quite persuaded, accepting Fu Qian’s generous hospitality without any refusal, and she doesn’t mind the lack of seating, immediately taking a sip.
As she places down the teacup, Yuan Shan’s movements synchronize almost pletely, their sounds nearly indistinguishable, fully manifesting the deteriorating situation.
However, looking on the bright side, it isn’t without gain.
paring their actions, Fu Qian gains more déjà vu towards the crimson robe on the Red Moon.
Aside from being delicately thin and tightly clinging to her body, the unique patterns remind him of the Embrace Armor she once gifted him.
Each thread, each strand, seems faintly like embracing arms drawing together, twisted yet exuding an unusual aesthetic.
Of course, such aesthetic remains in the realm of art; although she descended silently, the Red Moon maintains a low profile.
Not only did she mimic a face, but she also lacks the previous insanity-inducing divinity.
Even an ordinary person wouldn’t be troubled by glancing at her.
"Moreover, I can offer a small hint."
The bookstore momentarily quiets, but fortunately, Fu Qian isn’t just making people drink tea; he soon speaks meaningfully.
"Although just a cat, it’s quite hefty and doesn’t seem very agile..."
Sipping tea, Fu Qian recalls Old Master Henry’s appearance.
"Also, despite a terrible temper, its luck with gambling is atrocious..."
"And although its luck is bad, it’s quite addicted to gambling..."
His ments don’t spare any past friendship, bluntly critical.
"Gambling?"
And it appears effective—Yuan Shan is immediately drawn into recollection, frowning in contemplation.
After all, not long ago, she had plained about Old Master Henry’s huge gambling losses.
"But... really? How could a cat gamble?"
Unfortunately, within just a few seconds, she glanced at Fu Qian, shaking her head to indicate failed recollection.
Her tone even suggests genuinely regarding Old Master Henry as just a cat.
...
Alas, a disobedient student is still a student.
Though often unreliable and worrisome, she still shows some filial piety at crucial times.
Chief Yuan’s eyes are somewhat dazed, but in the exchange of gazes, Fu Qian does not disdain her rapid surrender.
Perhaps she’s constantly thinking of slacking off, but Fu Qian never doubts her ability to guard a region.
She’s already made life-or-death decisions more than once; with Chief Yuan’s skill and decisiveness, finally grasping a straw, how could she easily give it up?
Unless she believes the straw might break.
Though Old Master Henry is strong, he likely hasn’t imposed such pressure on Yuan Shan.
Perhaps her state is muddled and chaotic, but such a response most likely implies she senses danger, unwilling to drag Old Master Henry into the pit.
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